


Microwave

by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)



Series: Lost Boys [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Greenberg - Freeform, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, PWP, evil microwaves hellbent on world domination, potty mouth, talk about cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphim_grace/pseuds/DarkAthena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is an incubus and is hungry, Derek is happy to feed him.<br/>PWP!</p><p>Or the one in which there is porn and a microwave who is intent on world domination</p><p>Now with cover by the awesome Alpha Feels</p>
            </blockquote>





	Microwave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keire_ke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keire_ke/gifts).



> AU - fusion with Lost Girl, Stiles is an underage incubus, Laura volunteered her brother to keep him fed.  
> PWP to fool around in the idea without overwhelming it (and hopefully to get my muse off my back)
> 
> There is going to be a long plotty AU in this verse co-written with the beautiful Keire-Ke
> 
> In this Laura is alive and the Alpha, the Fae world exists and Beacon Hills is her territory, Peter is also sane, still a creeper but not dangerous, well, not very dangerous, well- not to the pack. The Sheriff knows everything, even if he does pretend a lot that he doesn't, and he lives at the Hale House too, the sheriff is human btw. Derek is his deputy. 
> 
> Despite the premise there are NO consent issues in this, Derek is happy to feed Stiles and BOTH can, and sometimes in this verse do, say no. 
> 
> There is one reference to a accidental non-consensual situation.

  
cover by the lovely [Alpha Feels](../703259) so make sure to hit up her page and tell her she is awesome!

 

 

 

 

 

**Microwave**

It always started the same way, the way Stiles reacted to his hunger, he licked his lips over and over as if he was chasing a phantom taste left there, and then, he started gnawing on the pen in his hand. Laura always gave him cheap clear ballpoints, the one with the plastic plugs and pointed lids, she bought them by the box because Stiles always left a trail of half chewed plastic pens wherever he'd been, he curled his tongue around the shaft of it, bouncing it against his lips completely unaware of what he was doing, and Peter, who was stood at the microwave stirring tea let the spoon fall against the edge of the cup with a heavy clink.

They had learned in the past couple of months to recognise the signs, because the whole house stunk of teenage arousal and incubus pheromones and the scent hadn't been a give away for a while now. Peter sighed and says it's normal, that boys that age are obsessed with sex, whether they're incubii or not, as he set up more and more potted plants to try and mask the smell. Laura flicked her eyes up from her laptop, where she was working on her newest novel, a feat that involved hours spent on tumblr and facebook and not much writing actually done, and flicked her eyes to Peter, then to Stiles. Then she shouted "DEREK!"

It was early in the afternoon, and Derek was sleeping, because that's what Derek did between his shifts at the station, where he was the world's surliest deputy, so he was still wearing his khaki uniform pants and pink crocs with the race cars on, because they were by the bed when he flopped unto it and Peter wouldn't let shoes in the house, when he stumbled into the kitchen, all scruff and sleep and then his nostrils flared. "Stiles, why did you let it get this bad?" He asked, pulling out Stiles' chair with very little preamble and a loud squeak on the tiles.

"Hey, I've got homework," Stiles protested but Derek clearly wasn't listening, he just slipped one arm under his legs and lifted him in a bridal carry, "Laura, make him wait, I'm almost done."

Laura dropped her head in front of her laptop and waved her hand as if suggesting that Derek get on with it, Peter turned around to find something incredibly fascinating about the microwave. In fact, judging by Peter's expression, he'd never realised just what amazing conversationalists microwaves could be. "If I fail chemistry it's all your fault." He told them but by that point Derek had reached the back stairs.

"I'm not taking the blame when you eat your chemistry teacher." Laura shouted up the stairs.

"My chemistry teacher is an ass," she heard hollered back, then a light moan, "I'd be doing the world a favour." Then the door slammed and Laura turned to Peter. "Cinema?" she offered, powering down the laptop. The two of them were very loud and some things you didn't need to hear about your brother.

"I was thinking tacos." Peter said, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

  
\---

Derek threw Stiles on the bed with the same ease as if he was a rag doll, licking his lips a little as the boy bounced on the memory foam, putting his hands down to catch himself and prevent him braining himself on the headboard again. Stiles' abilities meant that he healed whenever he had sex and could heal of anything short of death, and even then necrophilia might bring him back, but at the same time, it still hurt when he did it. "An hour," Stiles said, pulling his shirt over his head, "you couldn't wait an hour."

"I could have waited all week." Derek said, fumbling with the button of his khakis, "you're the one giving out enough pheromones that Peter befriended the microwave." He stepped out of his pants and stood there in his grey jockeys, the ones with the button front, and Stiles licked his lips. He didn't have to be starving, although he was, to want this.

"That is a very loquacious microwave, it has plans to take over the world," Stiles cast his head back as Derek crawled up the bed beside him, still wearing his jockeys because he knew how much Stiles liked to pull them down, how much Stiles liked it when he lifted his hips on the bed and pushed his shoulders down to pull them off. "It and Peter share notes all the time." Stiles grinned as Derek licked his neck, the edge of his teeth scraping the skin, "and cleaning," he grunted as Derek popped the button to his jeans, "tips."

"You want to continue talking about Peter?" Derek said lazily slipping his hand about Stiles' cock, teasing it with his palm to full hardness.

"Microwave." Stiles managed.

Derek laughed, still jacking Stiles' cock through his jeans. "That might just be our new safe-word." He said and bit down on the stretched taut skin of Stiles' neck. Stiles made an encouraging hmmm trying to angle his neck so Derek kissed him, he could feed through touch but kisses were better, richer, it was like drinking from the source, a source that tasted of sheriff station coffee and mint gum and a hint of salt and felt so fucking good that even if he wasn't an incubus Stiles could have lived on those kisses alone.

Derek however had a thing about his neck, scraping his blunt human teeth, and sometimes the sharper wolf ones, along it, like he might at any moment just rip it out, and it said a lot about how often they did this that Derek just looked at his neck and Stiles started to get a little peckish. Who wouldn't, right, Stiles thought, digging his fingertips into Derek's scalp, not quite enough to pull him up, even as he lifted his hips into the hand that had wrapped itself around him now, pulling from the base to just below the head, slowly jacking him off, because Derek knew when he was this hungry refraction wasn't an issue. Stiles was an incubus, he was genetically evolved to have sex to feed so when he did he could go for days. Humans couldn't survive a hungry incubus, Derek was just tired after a particularly bad hunger or healing. He'd even had to beg off once or twice and then Lydia, who like most fae looked at sex as a pleasant way to spend and afternoon and had no intention of having any kind of emotional attachment, was more than happy to fill in. Because sex with Stiles was always good. There were pheromones and chemicals and all sorts of things to make it better, but Stiles enjoyed sex and so he made it fun.

Derek raised his head and kissed Stiles quickly, briefly, on the lips, just a peck, "wanna stop?" he asked, then had a quick swipe of his lips along Stiles' own, pulling his hand from Stiles' pants and resting it on his chest, idly playing with a nipple, "discuss the microwave some more, finish your chem homework?"

"Oh, hell no," Stiles said and flipped them over so he was astride Derek's hips, grinding down with his ass, his jeans were still open and he had socks on, but he didn't want to let go long enough to shimmy out of them. It wouldn't be the first time Derek had just put them around his knees but Stiles was hungry. He wanted more than a quick fuck, he wanted all of it, several times - he'd just wanted to finish his chem homework first. He wasn't sure he could get them off and not strike Derek in the face with his knee, that was a skill one didn't learn with practise.

Derek wasn't pinned, unless he wanted to be, so Stiles took the opportunity to lean down and kiss him, to find that part of him, his _chi_ and breathe it in. It was like fireworks and elderflower candy floss and sunlight and the moment you bit into a skittle and he was hard pressed not to just breathe him all in, to fill himself with it. It felt like one of those chemical experiments where they put two drops together and together they swelled and formed into a mountain of foam. It was impossible and epic and just fucking awesome. Stiles rolled his hips as Derek's fingers found the buttons of his fly, all of his jeans were button fly for easier access, and pushed them down as far as they could go, hard rough palms curling around the flesh of his ass and squeezing.

"Want these off," Stiles grumbled pulling his mouth away, and fussing with the waistband of Derek's jockeys.

"You don't want to finish your chem homework first this time?"

"Peter will do it." Stiles said and let Derek roll him over again, that had been a skill that they had learned, Stiles always rolled to the left and Derek to the right, after a disastrous collapse from the edge of the kingsize bed, with Derek cupping his head in his hand to prevent him braining himself on the nightstand and Stiles laughing with the sheer exhilaration of it. "I want you to fuck me."

Derek made that groan he always did when Stiles said that, like it didn't happen at least twice a week, if not more. There had been a day when Derek had had to call into work sick because Stiles had been fallen down the front stairs and needed the healing and it had gone on and on and Stiles had never wanted it to end. There were also days when Stiles wasn't particularly hungry or in need of healing but still found an excuse, simple things like a blood blister from catching his hand in the car door, or a scraped knee from lacrosse. Derek didn't really need a lot of convincing. "Right now," Stiles said, pulling his jeans down and toeing them off, socks and all because although it wouldn't be the first time he'd let himself be ravished whilst wearing nothing but socks he didn't want to start a trend, it was the sort of thing that Laura never let slide, "all I want is to ride you like a bucking bronco."

And Derek laughed, because Derek almost always laughed in bed, except when Stiles did something like try to decapitate himself on the bedside cabinet, because Derek felt safe in this bed, because this was their bed, because Stiles got hungry in the night, and it was so much easier than doing the walk of shame down the corridor in the middle of the night, past his dad's door, past Laura's snickering, which was really loud on a school night, so this was their bed, well this was Derek's bed and he was squatting with permission.

Derek started to pull off his jockeys, the jersey leaving the skin sweat hot and almost pungent, but it was a good smell, musky and low and like hunger, and Derek was only just starting to get hard, because everything in this room was saturated with Stiles' pheromones so they didn't affect Derek the way that they should, so it didn't matter if Stiles made mistakes because Derek was on board with it. "I was thinking I'd suck you instead." He said in that low calm way of his.

Stiles answered what he considered eloquently. "Ngyerh." So Derek just brought his head, hands still on his ass and kneading, down to Stiles' cock which was more than eager for play. In fact it was straining against where Derek's head was almost close enough to touch, so that his breath was washing over the head. Stiles wanted to buck up but he Derek was holding his ass and that felt good too, and it was times like this that he really hated Derek. So he said so. Derek chuckled and that was a little more stimulation, not enough, but more. "Oh god, I hate you so much right now, I'm so fucking hungry." And with that he thrust up, butting the head of his cock against Derek's laughing mouth, before Derek's tongue curled out to take him in.

Everyone, Stiles thought, should have a werewolf at some point in their life because damn they gave good head. Derek bathed Stiles' cock with his tongue, long slow wet licks with lots of spit and grunts and damn it felt good, sucking came later, first there was licking and appreciative noises and soft wet lips and, god, Stiles was hungry. He flapped around with his left hand looking for the pillow and one of the many tubes of lube that lived under it. There were single use packets in the nightstand amidst the toys but there was always at least five tubes under the pillows. He grabbed the first one, brought it around to his face so that he could make sure that it wasn't that scented one, which was saved for emergencies because neither of them liked it but Peter had thought it funny at the grocery store, and like a bad penny always seemed to be first at hand, uncapped it, and slicked up his fingers.

The way that Derek had lifted Stiles hips it was easy enough to reach under and start to prepare himself. It wasn't difficult when Derek gave head he lifted Stiles up so that he was almost bent double, and it was easier for Stiles to just hook his legs over Derek's shoulders and let the werewolf support his weight, it wasn't difficult for Derek and well it just made the reach around easier. And Stiles sighed as he pushed two fingers inside himself up to the first bend, because sometimes a little bit of pain made it sweeter as the head of his cock butted up against the soft flesh of the inside of Derek's cheek.

Derek groaned and his fangs showed, it was a matter of trust Stiles knew, letting Derek suck him with his fangs out. He couldn't help but feel it was a bit hot, Derek would lose a little bit of control, just enough to make his eyes flash and his fangs and claws to show and Stiles liked knowing that Derek was losing control, and it wasn't just pheromones because Derek was so exposed that it didn't affect him like that. Stiles had accidentally touched Greenberg at school and the poor kid had jizzed all over his lacrosse shorts, but he was getting better at control. Derek wolfed out because he liked it, because he liked what he saw and smelled and felt, not because Stiles made him, well, sort of, he grinned as he pushed back onto his fingers with a groan.

Derek was butting the head of Stiles' cock, carefully through his fangs, against the soft wet heat of the inside of his cheek, because he was teasing and Stiles knew he was teasing and was grunting through it as he fingered himself open, and Derek knew he was fingering himself open which just made him tease more. Derek was a bastarding bastard and Stiles was telling him that. In fact that was some of the nicer language he was using and Derek, damn him, was chuckling with a mouthful of fangs and cock. And then, damn the bastard to the seventh of all fae hells, he slapped his ass, which shifted the angle of his cock right against the back of Derek's throat. It was enough of a stimulation, that, the quick flash of pain from the slap of Derek's hard hot hands, the pressure of the fingers, his own fingers, working inside him, and the hunger, that the kiss had barely taken the edge off, and he was coming, down Derek's throat and Derek just let him.

When he pulled back Derek's erection was a hot weight against the crack of his ass, rubbing against the slick there, as Derek licked his lips, still on his hands and knees with Stiles' knees on the bend of his shoulders and his ass bowed. "Liked that didn't you," and damn but he sounded smug and it suited him. Derek liked giving head, and well, Stiles liked getting it.

"Hungry," Stiles said, grinding back at the same time he leaned in for a kiss, it wasn't what he intended to say but it was what came out. Stiles was not one of those people who went mindless during sex, he didn't need a lot of foreplay but some was nice but he loved it when Derek talked dirty, and sometimes he wanted to goad him into it. "Want you to fuck me, to fuck me hard, to fill me up, to take this hunger and use it." At that Derek reached around, grabbed his own cock and lined it up. "Want you," Stiles whined trying to push back. "Want you to use me, to push that big cock of yours inside me hard, to make it rough, to make me like it."

Derek rolled his hips, just enough that the head was inside and raised his head to meet Stiles, mouthing soft biting kisses against his jaw, "maybe I don't want to," he said in that sex rough voice, "maybe I want to go into the bottom drawer," he said, "maybe I want to pull out those little blue panties, maybe I want to pull out the white stockings, maybe I want to dress you up and."

Stiles cut him off with a whine. "Ngyerh" he managed and then grabbed Derek's head for a proper kiss, sucking him in, his eyes flashing blue, the same colour as Derek's eyes when he was lost and if he could think like this, if Derek hadn't lost himself then Stiles wanted more, he wanted everything. He wanted to suck him in, to breathe him in and hold him there as Derek pulled his hips down and thrust in all the way. "Ngyerh," Stiles repeated because words didn't exist for how good this felt. He was designed for fucking but there was something about how good it felt, how much better it felt, when Derek was fucking him, rutting into him like he was in oestrous. Derek's hips were snapping back and forth because Stiles could come over and over but Derek couldn't, Derek needed time to recover, time to sleep. So if Derek went too fast, but damn it felt good.

"Wear a skirt for you," Stiles groaned into his mouth, "a lacy frilly thing, would you like that, all bounce and ribbons and you could pull it back to show my ass, so you could fuck into me with the skirt pulled back and me on my hands and knees in stockings and shoes, I know you," Derek's hips stuttered, "love the shoes, I'll even wear the panties, you can pull them aside and just push inside me, as soft and easy as if I was a girl, but with this hard cock in your hand, through the silk and lace and the frills all around your waist and oh god, Derek, I'm so fucking close, it's so fucking good, we can do it in the woods, we can, at night, in the woods, with my skirt hitched up and my stockings, god, please, Derek,"

"Can you hold it?" Derek was breathing in his ear, his breath hot and his sharp little teeth pulling at the lobe of his ear. "Can you hold back and not come," Derek was slapping his hips up hard and Stiles was juddering across the sheet and the headboard would have been banging against the wall if Peter hadn't already screwed it down. "Just a little longer, love, just hold it for me, can you, I'll make it so good."

"Always so good," Stiles said and his eyes were watering and Derek was forcing his cock up so damn hard and he tasted like skittles and sunlight and fucking life and he was going to, but then Derek's hand was around his cock, squeezing the base, "always so fucking good, just let me, please."

"Wait," Derek said and bit down and Stiles knew there was blood but it didn't matter because it healed straight away because it always did. "Just a little more, just a little."

"Please," Stiles whined, "please, oh god, please."

Derek flipped them so Stiles was on top, a move so practised he did it on the upthrust and didn't fall out, and Stiles' back was arched and he was so close, so damn close, as Derek threaded his hands through Stiles, letting him use his hands as leverage for Stiles to ride him. "Please, please, oh fuck, god, please."

"Going to come for me?" Derek groaned, "going to show me how good it is?"

Stiles' head snapped back showing that long curve of throat that drove Derek wild as he slammed his hips down as hard as he could, the wet slap of flesh meeting flesh obscenely loud in the room, and on command, Stiles came, his ass clenching hard in waves around Derek's cock, milking him for as much as he could before he collapsed forward, his neck within reach of Derek's mouth, so he could nuzzle and scrape it with his teeth.

"Oh fuck," Stiles said, trying to catch his breath although sex always energised him it still took a moment for his lungs to catch up. And he just lay there, Derek softening in his ass, letting the world catch up with him. "I still have my chem homework to do."

"We could go again." Derek offered.

Stiles grinned at him, a brilliant warm smile that was full of puckish mischief. "Want me to get the panties?"

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a long time since I wrote PWP porn, seriously, it took me ages to get back in the swing of it, and Stiles is one of those characters whose brain meanders so it was even harder to get to the good bit, as it were.


End file.
